Turning he rested Sandy against the garage, the position lowering her a couple of inches allowing him to penetrate deeper. With the freedom to fuck as far as he wanted to, he powered into her, grunting as he went. Sandy yelped at the girth of him expanding her and even better the feeling of being completely sexually consumed by a dominant man. It had been too long since she'd been taken with an air of desire and worship.
The fact they were outdoors, for the public to witness, for the police to arrest, for her husband to discover had not even crossed her mind. All she was aware of was the beautiful young man fucking her like he wanted it to last forever. It didn't. Her groaning, his nibbling at her neck had him climaxing. Sandy may not have peaked but she wasn't unsatisfied. Young men had to learn and it wasn't as if he had left her wanting.
As she watched him dress quickly she noticed how muscular and hard his thighs were. The boy was beyond perfect and he'd probably never have any idea of it. She hadn't seen him dispose of the condom but assumed he did. Rather than ride off or depart briefly, he ensured she was in a presentable state before asking her what was her normal mode of entrance onto her premise. She told him she always took the front of entrance.
True to his word, he accompanied her up the alley and to her front gate. As he looked at the pavement, deciding how best to say goodbye, she felt sorry for him. He knew she was married, she knew she couldn't have him and yet what had happened had been more than just sex. Sandy couldn't find the right words and neither could he.
She could see him torn between giving her a goodnight kiss and respecting her martial status.
'Laters,' he said, squeezing her hand briefly before riding off on his bike.
Sandy got inside and wanted to cry. Cry for everything she'd lost and everything she was losing. She was too old for flings, too old to fall for the charms of young boys who probably had an entire harem on the go, too old to start again and way too old to foolishly risk everything for the man she truly loved. How ironic that one missing element in a relationship could start the decay of the entire foundation it had been built on.
***
'I'm assuming it was a good lunch then,' shouted her husband Timothy from the bedroom as she entered the house.
'Yes. Might have a quick shower to sober up a bit.'
She trod slowly up the stairs feeling guilty about not feeling guilty for what had occurred outside while her husband read Victor Hugo. Crossing her fingers, she hoped he'd come out for a welcome home kiss, but the book was inevitably more appealing than her return to the house.
Sadly she stood under the shower as the warm water washed the sex away, washed the fun and frivolity away, washed away the feelings of womanhood and sexuality. Dressed in an oversized baggy t-shirt she came into bed.
'Want to watch some TV?' he asked smiling.
'Sure,' she agreed.
It was Wednesday night, who had sex on a Wednesday night anyway... apart from desperate and neglected married women?
***
The dilemma about whether sexting or cyber-sex constituted betrayal or cheating was irrelevant now because the general consensus was sleeping with another person who wasn't your husband when you were married was definitely categorised as cheating. Sandy was now a scarlet woman. The days of instant messaging during work hours came to an abrupt end.
She'd found what was missing in her relationship and it hadn't been through discussing it with horny lonely married men. It wasn't sex alone, but then it wasn't attention alone; it was a combination of the two. The trick Sandy was now faced with was how to inject that back into her marriage. Solving the conundrum may have been easier had Sandy not found herself faced with the additional problem of a love-struck nineteen year old.
It had not been wise of her to have him escort her to her front door the first night they met which gave him her address. It had not been prudent of her to take time out to approach the youth in the middle of the day to converse about how inappropriate his presence around the premises was. Perhaps the least circumspect decision she'd made was to agree to meet with him in the evening in the back alley.
Three months on, things had played out well thus far. The teen, called Jacob, was discrete, attentive, caring and undemanding. Sandy's husband remained ignorant and unaware of the change in her mood. If a union is missing one equal but valuable necessary factor of a relationship, that sole absent element can become the driving force to base a new relationship on.
In the throes of a new fling Sandy threw caution to the wind; convinced and safe that everyone involved in her situation were as contented with the circumstances as she was.
It turned out Jacob wasn't. He was young and believed he was in love; some part of Sandy figured he was in love with her. He'd been patient. Trusted Sandy and invested in her but as they grew closer, there was never any talk of them developing their relationship; never any talk of a shared future. Jacob found himself in a relationship where he had everything but commitment. He was a dependable guy and wanted the same trust, respect and support from his partner.
'Invite me round for lunch,' he said casually to Sandy on the phone late one night.
'You know my father-in-law is here.'
'Not on Wednesday's. You said he goes to the library for courses or something. Why can't I come round then?'
'You know I work from home.'
'You can't clear an hour from your schedule for me? Even though when you call I always juggle my business to see you.'
Sandy knew he had a valid point. She didn't like to point out that it wasn't appropriate for him to be in the house her husband owned, while she wined and dined her toy-boy but on reflection what harm could it really do?
'Fine come Wednesday after 11am.'
Jacob appeared as punctual and as well groomed as ever in designer Ralph Lauren polo boxers, the labelled jeans, t-shirt and hoodie. He looked even younger and more delicious in the daylight. Sandy could barely keep her hands off him.
'Shall we skip straight to dessert?' she winked.
'Hey I bought the good stuff,' he said presenting champagne and other posh delicacies from the nearby deli.
He'd clearly invested all his pocket money in the lunch, obliging Sandy to eat with him.
'No college today?'
'Classes can always be moved for special occasions.'
The lunch was tasty but Sandy was definitely keener on the impending sex.
She straddled Jacob on the seat.
'Let's get down and dirty,' she growled playfully.
Lifting her skirt, she let him see she had no underwear on. He tilted his head to one side, smirking at her brazenness. As she ground on his lap, she was surprised to find he wasn't rock hard. Sandy stood, then knelt between his spread legs, undoing his belt and jeans. He allowed her to tug them down far enough to access his cock and balls.
She wasted no time taking the helmet of his dick in her mouth, sucking on it and flicking her tongue over the slit in the head. He groaned and began to firm up. Sandy's tongue worked long broad licks of the shaft to lube him for her mouth. Wet enough to take him in, she inched down her throat, twirling her tongue round his erection as she swallowed him down. Her hands cupped and massaged his balls.
His groans were pleasing to her ears, as was the fact that his prick was filling her mouth to capacity. Forced to breathe through her nose she did her best to work her mouth free of Jacob's mammoth erection.
Looking down at it, he seemed a more willing participant in the sexual play. Feeling successful, Sandy sat directly on his cock, whimpering as she stretched to accommodate it. He sat in his chair like a king attended by a court whore. He let Sandy squat and give her thighs a workout as she rose and sank on his shaft; controlling the pace herself.
Sandy tore her own top open to expose her bare breasts for him to watch as she re-mounted his cock and rode him hard. Jacob allowed his hands to go to her breasts to hold them. They were buxom and white and when he squeezed them her pink nipples peaked and her moans became even
more whorish. Something in her sluttish behaviour triggered a sexual shift in Jacob.
With one hand behind to support her back, he used the other to push her front, arching her back and head towards the floor. He could see her white pussy lips moving down his thick black shaft, wanting more and more of him. Jacob held her hips and guided her on him.
She began verbally begging for more. Jacob suggested the bedroom. Sandy in a state of sexual intoxication didn't offer an alternative. She climbed on the bed on all fours, allowing Jacob to glide his rod right into her, squealing as he did.
He held her hips firm and for the first time in weeks really fucked her; slammed his cock into her as if she was merely a random woman to fuck. The pounding was sexually satisfying but in the back of her mind Sandy knew something important in the dynamic of their relationship was absent.
The hands that moved from her hips were groping, grabbing and grasping at her breasts. Rather than treating them sensually, it was as if he was enjoying toying with them to provoke her sexual elicitations.
Withdrawing roughly, he flipped her on her back, dragging her down to the edge of the bed. His dick penetrated her slit and his eyes glazed over as he returned to banging himself into her as hard as he could. Jacob's hands flicked and pinched her nipples until she screeched in a state of mutual pain and pleasure.
Seeing how much she enjoyed the pain encouraged him to remove his cock, then whip her pussy lips with the back of his fingers. The sharp pain had her squirming on the bed. He shoved his erection back in, spreading her legs by the ankles to have complete access to her. Jacob rammed into her, as she continually asked for more.
He pulled the sheets of the bed down and lay her flat. Climbing on top, she splayed her legs for him to access her. Their bodies melded as one, the sweat from the exertions sticking them together. As Jacob slid into her, his dark brown eyes seared into her lighter brown eyes. His motions were slow and rhythmic. Sandy's hands went down to stroke his perfectly pert arse.
'I like it when you touch me like that,' he confessed.
The slower the sex the more aware of the physicality of the act she was.
'I like it when you move into me like that,' she replied.
He kissed her delicately as their session reverted to love-making. Even in her youth, she'd never slept with a man so well built and toned. To have him on top of her evoked feelings of security and stability no other man had given her.
As Jacob moved inside, grinding and gyrating his hips to reach the place that would bring her to her eventual climax, a place he'd taken invested hours to discover, she wondered what feelings she induced in him. His motion continued, steadily as he raised himself on his arms to gaze softly at her face.
He closed his eyes and kissed her. Sandy heard him inhale deeply and recalled the first evening they'd fucked. He'd done something similar as if he was attempting to memorise the moment. What was so special to him about here and now?
Resting his weight on one arm he used the other to trace her shape and remind her how gorgeous she was. He returned to missionary. As Sandy tilted her pelvis slightly, Jacob's cock massaged her g-spot until her body shuddered. Her thighs attempting to clamp around Jacob, her fingers digging deep into his firm buttocks, her vagina contracting around his shaft.
The orgasm encompassed her entire being as she connected with him. His erection seemed to extend and widen as she came on his dick prolonging the sensation of her orgasm. Unified in heaven-esque state they jerked and embraced simultaneously until the shared physical sensation passed.
Jacob rolled back and looked at the ceiling.
'Don't you find this all a bit soul destroying sometimes?' he asked.
Sandy had always found their social intercourse light and easy, nothing heavy or deep and meaningful.
'What do you mean?' she asked warily.
'I never thought I'd meet the right woman at the wrong time. It hurts when you come to that realisation.'
'I'm not sure what you mean.'
But Sandy knew exactly what he meant.
'I mean I can't think of a woman more perfect for me. I want to look after you – properly. Treat you how you deserve to be treated but you've moved on from that stage. That's not what you want from someone like me. Maybe once you did, but not now. Now you're married, settled and accept your life. I'm a distraction from what's missing.'
'You're not merely a distraction,' protested Sandy genuinely.
'I don't mean it in a horrible way. You lost your faith in love somewhere, which is why you'd never give me a chance; give us a chance. The house, the job, the marriage – it's too big a risk. You figure you'll find a way to make it work. But I still have faith in love. I believed I could hold your hand and lead you back to a place where dreams can come true. I kind of know now, you won't let me do that. You don't want to go back. It's safer being unhappy and secure than charge into the scariness of attempting a different kind of new happiness.'
'Jacob,'
'I don't want to be a piece of your jigsaw puzzle. I want to think we fit without other elements or people required, but that's not how you work. I should've known that at the beginning. I knew he was always there, but sometimes faith can make you do silly things. I wish you might've taken the time to get to know me, maybe love me rather than viewing me as an opportunity to help you out in a rough patch of your marriage.'
'Jacob please.'
'Don't insult me Sandy. Just now, at lunch, I realised you want someone to fuck you and make you feel good about yourself. You don't have any inclination to share a life with me. I get that, but I'm going to have to get dressed and walk out that door and never come back; never call you or never take calls from you. I believe in love. I can walk out with that, if you let me go without another word. I can leave here still believing in love.'
Sandy nodded.
He dressed, slowly and deliberately, giving Sandy a brusque kiss on the cheek.
'Incidentally I'm nineteen, I do business management at college and I don't sell pot,' he laughed, as he walked out of Sandy's home for good.
Distraught Sandy was unable to move from bed for the remainder of the afternoon. She heard her husband greet her as he opened the door. He entered the bedroom, surprised at the naked state of her.
'Not well,' his expression was genuine concern.
'No,' she answered soullessly.
'I'll fix you dinner in bed,' he said cheerfully.
It had been so long since they'd had intercourse, he hadn't even smelt the pungent aroma of sex in their bedroom.
***
[Hope you liked the story and don't forget your 8 complimentary books, which you may find a download link to on the last page of this collection, just after the 11th story ends. Now, on to the next story!]
Devious Virgins
by
Nicole Bright
Genevieve watched her newfound friend toss her overnight items into the seat behind them. The flight steward found the accoutrements a better place, when Genevieve pointed them out to the youngster.
Everyone seemed eternally young to her these days, Genevieve believed. New creams, new hydration balms, everything and anything females could need were packaged, shipped and put on display for the naïve and ageist anywhere, and made available online any time.
Genevieve Cosmetics was an echelon of beauty products every woman used. As a young girl of 23, Genevieve Plumb would dream about designing a skin care and a hair care line for the female sex. Twenty years later and 43 as Genevieve du Perl, she ran the largest pair of cosmetic and clothing lines in North America.
She used the women she met in everyday life as her inspiration and the young woman hitching a ride to San Juan de Capistrano was the very epitome of the exceptional looker that the media craved. Genevieve found the young woman very entertaining. She might have a career in print or catalog if Genevieve set her on the specific path.
She glimpsed Francesca sifting through her Marc Jacobs tote like a breath mint junky. She reser
ved any personal judgment. It was her experience you could tell what a person didn’t like in life but rarely could you predict what she or any person would eventually laud. It was one of the mantras of her empire: Express to Impress. It was a campaign she created for the next cosmetics line due out next fall. Her new edition: Genevieve - Moi Femme.
If Francesca’s cousin was bestowed with as beautiful a countenance as young Francesca, then Genevieve might have to up her plans. She was seeking a spokesperson for the Moi Femme line.
Francesca dropped a flask on the floor. Genevieve bent to pick up the makeup and was granted a generous view of the young woman’s pancake. Her first thought was perhaps the girl was destitute and too proud to admit she was in need of clothing.
The Ultimate Erotic Short Story Collection 23 - 11 Steamingly Hot Erotica Books for Women Page 2
